Leaving the World Behind
by M'rika
Summary: Tonks has a secret meeting with a deatheater, because she can't help herself. Because he helps her forget about the rest of the world. One-shot.


An: eccentric aristocrat had a request (or has, it's probably still there) on their profile for someone to write Dolohov/Tonks oneshot, and I rose to the challenge (or at least attempted to) and wrote this. Hope you enjoy.

Leaving the World Behind.

When she arrived at the tower block, the sky was a dark blue, the inky blackness beginning to take over, signalling the change form evening to night. It was a full moon and she shivered as a slight breeze danced by. From the street she hurried to the relative shelter of the partial porch, where she pressed the intercom, before looking behind her again, double checking, triple checking, quadruple checking that no-one had followed her.

"Yes?" His voice crackled over the intercom, static distorting his word.

"It's me." She said it quietly, before realising that she really ought to speak up so he would hear her. "It's me," she repeated.

There was no reply except for the buzz as the door in front of her unlocked. She hurriedly slipped inside, beginning the long journey up the stairs. His flat was on the twelfth floor and the lift had never worked. As she approached his door, she pulled down the dark hood that had been obscuring her hair from any passing observer. She drew her wand, as always; she never walked into his flat without being prepared. Though, she didn't think this was his actual flat; no, she knew this wasn't his actual flat. This was a rundown flat in a tower block in a downtrodden estate, with damp in the kitchen and mildew in the bathroom. There was no way he actually lived here.

He opened the door silently and looked her up and down. There was a pause before he finally said, "You came." He always seemed surprised to see her, even after all this time, even after all of these rendezvous. But he was never surprised to see her wand drawn. He always expected that. He stood back to allow her access to the small lounge, and it was only after she had shouldered past him and the door was closed, that he smiled. "I'm glad."

She stowed her wand in her jeans' back pocket, unzipping the hoodie that had kept her almost warm on the way over. "I shouldn't be here."

"You always say that." His accent made her shiver as he walked towards her, reaching out an arm to place a hand on her shoulder.

"It's always true," she told him, but she stepped into his embrace anyway. He smelt like gunpowder and grass, which made little sense as they fought with wands not bullets, and he wasn't the outdoorsy kind.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "You have gone back to purple. It suits you."

She stepped back, but only little, her hands finding his. "Mouse was too much like Mom."

He studied her with concern in his eyes, raising a hand to run a thumb along her right cheekbone. "You are bruised."

She shrugged, a wry smile dancing on her lips. "There's a war on, or haven't you heard?" She gazed into his dark eyes, amazed still that this was happening. That she was meeting Antonin Dolohov. Dolohov the death eater. A death eater.

"I have heard," he assured her. "I also know that you had a close shave with your uncle."

She shrugged again, before sitting down on the sagging sofa. "He missed. Better luck next time."

He remained standing, hands in his suit pockets. "I wish you would not joke."  
>"I never joke about war," she told him, flashing him a grin. She ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it slightly. "Now, are you going to kiss me, or is this a wasted journey?"<p>

He gingerly sat down next to her, as if afraid that the sofa would collapse beneath them. He cupped her face in his hands. "I would hate for you to have wasted your time," he breathed, before kissing her.

She knew it was all kinds of wrong, what with the age difference, the fact that he had once dated her mother and that he was on the wrong side of the war. But when he held her close and kissed her, all those reasons floated away. When he held her close and kissed her, she could forget about the rest of the world.


End file.
